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Doyou ever sit there and think about that time you fucked up? Like really sulk in it and let your anxiety eat you alive? I should be used to it, really. I've been doing it for so long now. First over everything that happened with Tessa, and now Kennedy.
After pouring my heart out and having the door shut in my face, I convinced myself that it was over. That I had fucked up beyond repair. That she was never going to forgive me. And a part of me still believes that's true. But there's still a part that holds out hope.
Amelia keeps saying I should be patient. She says she'll come around eventually. Although, after she found out the truth of why we broke up, she damn near threatened to cut me. It wouldn't be the biggest surprise if she was giving me hope just to torture me a little bit more. And yet, I go along with it.
“Dude,” Zayn interrupts my thoughts. “Are you even listening?”
“Yep,” I answer, even though I couldn't tell you what he just said if my life depended on it.
“Fucking liar. You were zoned out and staring at the wall for the last fifteen minutes.”
Rolling my eyes, I focus all my attention on him. “You were telling me all about how you and my sister are going to get hitched like Knox and Delaney, and I'll be the single one for the rest of my life.”
Z has been trying to figure out how he wants to ask Amelia to marry him since we picked out the ring, but keeps coming up empty. Nothing is good enough for her, according to him. He wants something memorable and perfect. Something she will be proud to tell her friends about. I mean, Knox is literally tattooing the question on his chest to ask Delaney. That’s a pretty high bar.
When did we reach this point? Was there a moment in time where we transitioned from a bunch of fuck boys who wouldn't commit to anyone to these guys who are totally ready to devote our whole lives to one person? I always thought out of the three of us, I'd be the first to get married. And if you had asked me, Knox never would have at all. He was too independent. Too closed off. And then Delaney came storming into his life and flipped the whole thing upside down.
Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them. They deserve all the happiness in the world, and I'm glad they found their person. I'm just a little jaded, because I thought I found mine—twice.
“Overdramatic much?” he teases.
“Says the guy who is freaking out over how to pop the question.”
He throws his head back and groans. “Fuck off. I'm sure she's been dreaming of this since she was little. Sue me for wanting it to be special.”
I chuckle and throw one of the couch pillows at him. “The only part she's been dreaming of is you being the groom.”
“So, in the middle of sex is fine then?”
The smile is wiped straight from my face. “You two don't have sex.”
He smirks. “Is that really what you think?”
“It's what I force myself to believe so I don't kill you in your sleep.”
Raising his hands in surrender, he grins. “Fair enough. We're practically Mormons.”
If he wasn't my best friend, I'd knock him upside the head. But Zayn has done enough for me to deserve a lifetime supply of free passes. He could get away with murder in my book.
As I let myself drift back into thoughts of everything Kennedy, I start to wonder what her ideal proposal would look like. If I had a ring burning a hole in my pocket and was just waiting for the right moment to ask her. Would it be on a beach somewhere? Or in a field full of wildflowers? Knowing her, she would probably want something that looks amazing in pictures. A place she could go back to on our anniversary every year.
“I've got it!” Zayn snaps. “I'll take her up in a helicopter and have it written on the ground beneath us.”
“Eh, I was kind of expecting something a little more badass from you. I think she's turning you soft.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “In fire.”
A broad smile stretches across my face. “Now that's more like it.”
I'M SITTING IN THE kitchen, drinking a beer, when Amelia comes in. She drops her books onto the table and exhales in relief. I can't help but chuckle at her when she slumps down in a chair.
“I'm so tired I could sleep for a week,” she whines.
“You're the dumbass who chose to major in pre-law,” I tell her.
She turns toward me and glares, but before she can answer, Zayn comes into the room. He wraps his arms around Amelia from behind and she melts against him.
“Pretty sure that makes her a genius.”
